Hokitiki an interesting town on the west coast.

The day started early, at 5 am.  The Rugby World Cup finals, All Blacks versus Wallabies at Twickenham, United Kingdom.  A game that we could not miss watching, as we were visiting both countries.   And as I was born in New Zealand, I thought it wise to support the All Blacks, especially as I was watching it with my sister, Margaret.   And they won.  Great excitement and celebrations in New Zealand. 

After a restorative cup of coffee, we said goodbye to Margaret and Gordon, and set off towards the west coast.   It makes quite a change to travel south along this route, normally it is the other way around, that is from the south to north.  Already the scenery looks quite different.

First stop, our favourite tea rooms in Murchison, where we ate our hokey pokey (honeycomb) ice creams, although it was only 10 am.  Tradition cannot be changed, although the ice creams have diminished in size.  Just as well really, for the sake of our waistlines.

 We drove through Bullers Gorge, with the sides of the gorge on one side and the wide Buller River on the other side.  The fault line runs through there, with landslides when there is an earthquake.  We made a comment about hoping there would be no earthquakes today.  And we heard later there was one in the north island, and it could be felt in Nelson, not so far away.

We turned off the main road towards Westport, and drove through a very wide valley, which contained mostly farms, towards the small town of Reefton.  It was very pretty, with the broom and hawthorne out in flower.  Neither shrubs are native to New Zealand, and the broom has become quite a pest.  We noticed that most of the gorse had been sprayed, but it is an ongoing battle.   We can blame the first European settlers for bringing these plants to New Zealand.

After Reefton it was a very short journey to Greymouth, passing mining areas on the way.

Greymouth lived up to its name, as it was certainly very grey overhead, making the town extra drab and colourless.

A stop for lunch, and what better place than McDonalds.  First an ice cream and then a rubbish lunch.  In a land of excellent food too.  And we were not disappointed but the coffee was reasonable.

Walter walking quickly towards his lunch.  In anticipation, no doubt.   Actually his Angus beef hamburger was nearly acceptable.

 In New Zealand a large number of the bridges are single lane, with signs to let drivers know who has right of way.  It works really well.

The bridge in the photograph below also includes a railway line as well.

Then the town of Hokitika, only a few kilometres from Greymouth, on a very straight road.

Our motel room, not the Ritz I know, more like a chalet in a Butlins camp, but quite roomy and very clean.

 Hokitika, once the end of the railway line from Christchurch, with a bus service to the Fox and Franz Joseph glaciers, before the Haast Pass was built.  A wild west type of town. Now it is a modern community, with the main industry, other than tourism and jade and wollen sock workshops, being the milk powder factory which employs 500 people.

When the Maori lived here, they had a thriving community, and a plentiful supply of food which included a wide variety of fish plus sweet potatoes and honey. And a cultured life.

The first European, a man from Nelson, came here in the 1840s, followed by a huge wave of gold miners in the 1880s.  Hokitika grew into a large town, with the accompanying tradespeople following the miners.

We went for a long circular walk, which was very interesting.  Normally we drive through Hokitika quickly, in our hurry to arrive at a motel before it becomes too dark.

We walked along the beach, with its black volcanic sand, covered in drift wood, some of it being gigantic tree stumps.  The seas on the west coast can be very wild, and even on a calm day, it is easy to see the undercurrents and rips.   These seas are definitely not for swimming.

The pebbles, large and small, are flat, worn that way by the powerful seas.

Someone made a sculpture with some drift wood.  HOKITIKA.

Walter resting on an armchair.  A concrete armchair.  It looked at first as if someone had dumped an old chair there.

This was once a sailing ship which was washed up on shore.  Someone had salvaged some of the wood, and then made the remainder of the ship with concrete.  Inside the hull there were picnic tables.  Very inventive.

The spit at the end of the river, a very popular fishing spot.

I think that Mt Cook is somewhere there, in amongst the clouds.

The quayside, where, in the 1860s-1880s, there would be about 40 ships tied up.  The difficulty though, was trying to get the ships over the sand bank at the mouth of the river, and then negotiate the ships through logs and debris in the river.  Many ships sank, or were washed up onto beaches.  A very treacherous coast and river.

The huge baulks that hold the quay together are still visible, as are the bollards.  But trees and flax bushes now grow along the edge of the quay.

The piece of blue plastic, plus other bits and pieces, and the dog, do not belong to a homeless person (see photograph above). Rather it is the shelter for a person who is whitebaiting.  The nets are there but the person has left the dog in charge while he went for a coffee, I think.

The very wide streets of Hokitika.  Hardly a person in sight.  Noone interested in shopping in this town, although all the tourist shops were open.

The old customs building.

A roundabout, with the town clock in the centre.

St Mary's Catholic Church, a beautiful neo-classical building, which apparently took years to build, and now closed until the required earthquake strengthening work has been completed.  This will cost between $1,500,000 and $2,000,000.   It will probably be cheaper to build another church, which in many situations has already happened elsewhere.  Such a shame.

We ate a very healthy dinner, bought from the supermarket.  Plenty of salad, cheese plus yoghurt.

Hopefully we will have a calm night.  I have checked to make sure there is a hill close by, just in case of tsunamis or an extra high tide.  One can never be too sure.

Our motel is one street from the sea.